


Can't seem to let you go

by Elisexyz



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Reconciliation, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 21:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16542896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: “Well, the bad news is you are healthy as a horse,” Simmons announces, with a tight smile, as she removes her gloves. “The good news is that it means that you can finally get out of my lab.”





	Can't seem to let you go

**Author's Note:**

> For the Tumblr prompt: [39\. “I’d explain it to you, but your brain would explode.” + Biospecialist](http://heytheredeann.tumblr.com/post/179835238729/39-sarcastic-prompt-for-biospec-please). In this AU Garrett died conveniently early, so the Uprising wasn't as messy as in canon, because Grant ended up siding with the team, although it did come to light that he was actually Hydra. At the time, Grant and Jemma were in the very early stages of a relationship.  
>  So she's still understandably pissed.

“Well, bad news is you are healthy as a horse,” Simmons announces, with a tight smile, as she removes her gloves. “The good news is that it means that you can finally get out of my lab.”

Grant tries to hide his amusement, because as counter-productive as Simmons _still_ being pissed after months is, he can’t help finding her attempts at emotionally wounding him endearing. She’s cute, she’s trying so hard.

Plus, he’s pretty sure that she’s only trying that hard to highlight how much she doesn’t like having him around _precisely_ because her feelings are still lurking in there.

Hell, she can deny all she wants, but when they brought him in two weeks ago he wasn’t nearly delirious enough not to remember how worried she was. She’s gotten good at not fussing over his routine field injuries, but whatever that thing was worked more as a very aggressive virus, and it reduced him in a state that she isn’t used to seeing him in – and that _he_ totally didn’t appreciate _being_ in –, which threw her off.

By the time he was doing better, she had regained her I-hate-being-within-ten-feet-of-you attitude.

“And you’re sure of this how…?” he asks, without standing up.

Not that he doesn’t trust her skills, but he doesn’t want to leave quite yet, and back in the day it was really easy for him to get her to start talking non-stop about whatever she was working on. He doesn’t hope too much that it’ll work, but it can’t hurt to try.

Simmons opens her mouth to answer, and for a moment she gets her lecture-expression, which makes him think that it _might_ just work— except that vanishes really quickly and she gives him another tight and not at all friendly smile.

“I’d explain it to you, but your brain would explode,” she states.

Grant barely bites back the urge to comment that that never stopped her before – he has learnt that bringing up their shared past is bound to lead to the You Lied To Us All talk, which he’d just like to avoid having as much as possible –, and he settles for: “Thank you for looking out for me then.”

She scoffs, shaking her head as she turns away from him.

“I’ll show myself out,” he adds, standing up and heading for the exit.

“Yeah, you do that,” she says, drily, without turning around.

He sighs. There’s a lot of work to do there.

 

 

The next time he’s alone with Simmons, it’s two days later, when he comes knocking at the door to her room in the middle of the night.

“What do you want?!” she hisses, after a brief pause that she uses to get over the shock that it’s _him_ disturbing her sleep. Then she takes a good look at him and at his hand gripping the doorframe for support, and her enraged frown turns into something closer to concern. “Are you okay?”

He snorts. “Not really,” he admits, taking fast and shallow breaths. “How much more would you hate me if I threw up on you?”

And there it goes: her eyes widen in a mixture of fear and worry, and she gives him a quick ounce over, as if that could be enough to decipher what’s wrong.

“Crap— I thought I had— alright, alright, stay calm, I need to quarantine you again. Can you walk?” she quickly asks. He barely has time to open his mouth to answer before she has raised her hand to stop him. “Nevermind, you’ll say yes either way. I’ll help you.”

She gently removes his hand from the doorframe and slides his arm around her shoulders, circling his waist with her arm and holding tight onto the sleeve of his shirt with her free hand.

“Don’t be stupid and lean on me, okay?” she says, tugging at his sleeve to make her point. “We need to get you to the lab as fast as possible, are you dizzy?”

“Yeah,” he says, after a brief pause. He allows himself to lean just a bit on her, without crushing her, because he’s pretty sure that she won’t stop pestering him about it until he does.

“Alright, if it spins too much you tell me and we stop, okay?”

He’s so busy repressing the huge-ass grin that’s threatening to spread on his face that he stays silent a little too long.

“ _Ward_ ,” she calls, her tone half-way between demanding and worried.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” he quickly amends. “Okay, will do.”

“Good. Try not to throw up, okay?”

They get to the lab without many problems – unless you account for the inhumane effort that Grant has to make in order not to start downright laughing at how _concerned_ Simmons is openly being, in spite of how distant she acted only a handful of hours ago –, and Simmons is quick to make him sit and provide him with something to throw up in.

She then closes the door to the lab, to avoid contamination, although he isn’t sure how much good that would do considering he has been walking around freely since he’s been discharged, then she wraps him up in a _blanket_ – which is sweet and appreciated, because walking around the base at night without a couple of layers on means freezing your ass off – and she starts checking his temperature, her face a mask of sweet, sweet worry.

“I’m _so_ sorry, I was convinced that I had—” she starts mumbling, and he doesn’t think that he’s imagining that her eyes are looking a little glassy. She stops dead on her tracks when her eyes land on his face. “What are you grinning at?” she asks, slowly, pulling back a little. “Are you delirious?”

At this point, Grant just allows himself to grin all he wants. “No, I’m fine,” he confesses, shaking his head a little. “In fact, I am _completely_ fine, Simmons.”

It takes a few seconds for her to work it out, but she does. When realization strikes, her worry turns to shock and then to outrage, and she suddenly steps away from him, as if she had been burned.

“ _You_ —” she lets out, gaping at him. She raises her hands as if to grab him and possibly smash his face against the first hard surface available, and judging by her face she might be building up just enough adrenaline to make it hurt. That doesn’t make Grant any less amused. “How could— this isn’t _funny_!” she finally shouts, and if the lab wasn’t soundproof she’d probably wake up the whole base.

He isn’t sure how he’s supposed to find her anything short of adorable and beautiful at the same time while she’s standing there in her pyjamas, with messy hair and barefoot – because she was worried enough that she didn’t bother putting any shoes on – after rushing to his aid like that.

“No,” he agrees, his lips still twisted in a slight smile as he stands up. “But it was sweet how worried you were.”

As he steps closer, she just keeps gaping at him for a couple of seconds. “I wasn’t— I thought you had infected everyone!” she tries, as if she wasn’t an awful liar and he a trained spy. He doesn’t even need training to notice how squeaky her voice got.

“Sure you did,” he grins, getting the blanket off his shoulders and wrapping it around hers instead: she might be too agitated to notice now, but she’ll start freezing shortly. And, well, scaring her like that was mean already, she doesn’t deserve to get a cold on top of it all.

Simmons allows him to get close enough to cover her, and she doesn’t object when he doesn’t step away.

“You are an asshole,” she states, quietly, grabbing the blanket so that it’s wrapped tightly around her and avoiding his eyes.

“Probably,” he agrees, lightly. “But you love me anyway.”

She snorts, shaking her head before taking the necessary step forward to press her cheek against his chest. Right on cue, he wraps his arms around her, stroking her back and laying a kiss on top of her head, if after a moment of hesitation.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he says, after a few seconds of silence, because, well, he maintains that it was necessary to break out of the loop they were in and that she probably won’t hold it against him too much, but she _was_ scared, and now that she’s shaking against him – although her bare feet might have something to do with that too – it’s beginning to make him feel a little guilty. “It was mean.”

“You know what they say about the boy who cried wolf,” she mumbles, rubbing her nose against his chest. He smiles a little at the familiarity of it.

“I’m confident you won’t take the risk anyway,” he states, playing with her hair.

“Probably not,” she sighs, quietly. “But do anything like this again and I will poison you myself.”

He laughs, holding her a little tighter. “I don’t doubt it.”

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including: 
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


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